The False Foot
by Grey Foxes
Summary: When Harry accidentally angers a Norse god, he finds himself buried in snow and in the time of the dragon-taming Vikings. With the clock ticking, Harry has to get through amorous Norse gods, a dragon that has a personality similar to Molly Weasley, and fulfill the clauses of the curse in order to get home. (Harry Potter/OMCs)
1. Chapter 1

**CHALLENGE BY WIZARDSGIRL**

 **chapter one**

 _in which mrs. black is her lovely self and causes a conflict_

* * *

 _Before_

Hermione was wane. Pale. Her hair hung limp and unwashed, her eyes like dark bruises. Her usual brilliant self had rotted away with Ron's death, leaving only a shadow behind.

"I'm sorry Harry." Her voice was a whisper. "But I-I just can't. I'm sorry."

Harry clenched his jaw and apparated away.

Hermione wiped at her eyes before doing the same, leaving behind her pristine flat.

Harry hoped that the ghosts of the war wouldn't follow her to Spain. If they did, though, perhaps they'd leave him at rest for a while.

* * *

 _Now_

The bar Harry had walked into was dark to conceal just how often the bartender didn't clean the tables and the glasses were so dusty that they may very well belong in an antique shop. He liked it immensely. He sat down and ordered two shots of vodka. The bartender had the courtesy of rinsing out the shot glasses first before slamming them down on the counter, dust flying in every direction.

Harry had been banned from all of the other bars in this part of Magical London. This was the only bar left that was willing to let him in, thankfully allowing him not to go muggle in order to find solace in the bottom of the glass. Today wasn't a good day for Harry. It hadn't been a good day for him in two years, and Harry doubted it get any better.

A man, with hair darker than Harry's and strangely colored eyes, sat next to him and ordered a whiskey. His accent was Norse, and his smile was pure sex. He gave the smile to Harry and bought him a drink.

Harry accepted the drink with a false shy smile, wandlessly checked the drink- one of the few spells he could perform wandless- and downed it in one swing.

"I'm Loki," said the man, sipping lazily.

"Harry," Harry said, and swung a compatible arm around Loki's shoulders. "Want to get drunk?"

"That's what bars are for." Loki said agreeably.

If his smile darkened just a tad, nobody was paying enough attention to notice.

It was a good two hours later when the alcohol hit Harry with the force of a sledgehammer. Loki still seemed sober, despite matching Harry drink for drink. "Got a-a-a sobering, uh…" Harry lost track of his thoughts.

The bartender wordlessly passed a sobering potion over. Harry downed it as soon as he got it uncapped. His eyes brightened, though it appeared he was still maintaining a good buzz. "So," he said, leering at the man, "My place or yours?"

"Yours," Loki crooned, paying both of their tabs with a coin. The bartender paled as soon as he saw the currency.

Harry smirked, and offered an arm for a side-along apparition. Loki pulled him in for a kiss as they disappeared with a bang, with the bartender staring at the coin with wide-eyed trepidation.

He was right to be worried, but it wouldn't be himself that he had to be worried over.

* * *

Loki slammed Harry against the wall as soon as they materialized in his home, his lips never parting from Harry's. Harry moaned and put his hands in Loki's hair, twisting it as Loki stuck his hand down Harry's pants.

Loki was just about to unzip his pants when, behind him, a portrait's curtains flew apart.

"YOU DARE! TO DO THAT IN THE HALLS OF THIS HOME INSTEAD OF THE BEDROOM-!"

Loki jumped, tripped, and fell. Harry, unable to help himself, burst into laughter.

Loki snapped his fingers and the curtains flew back to cover the screaming woman's face, and zipped his pants back. "Find that funny?"

Harry nodded, choking back tears.

Loki snapped his fingers again. Harry's laughter rung out before being suddenly halted, shrunk down to ankle-length and finding himself on two legs instead of four. He tried to talk, demand what was going on, but all that came out was a terrifyingly cute "meep."

"Now that," Loki said, snickering, "Is funny." He burst into laughter. "Oh, this will be one of my greatest tricks!"

Harry felt a burn in his throat. He coughed, belching out smoke, and shook his head. As Loki's laughter grew louder, Harry grew more and more distressed, unable to get rid of the burning feeling. All of his efforts produced only smoke.

"Aw, does the ickle little dragon not feeling well," Loki cooed mockingly just as Harry coughed, and spat out flames straight towards Loki's pants. Loki yelped and danced backwards, putting out the flames with a great amount of effort. Dragon fire, after all, is nearly impossible to put out.

Loki's eyes grew dark, and he picked Harry up.

Harry screeched and thrashed, but with very little effect. With very little effort from Loki, Loki tossed Harry straight at the wall. Harry closed his eyes, waiting for an impact that never came.

He landed snout first in cold snow, and was buried inside of the snow pile within seconds.

 _Bloody hell!_


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter two**

Harry couldn't breathe. He squeaked, an irritating sound that burst involuntarily from his throat, and flailed backwards into the snow. He sat up again immediately, mouth sparking with flames. Britain was in the midst of one of it's hot muggy summers, and snow wouldn't fall there for another four months. Where the bloody hell was he?

Where had the man sent him?

Harry found himself unfortunately sobering up, the inner fire in his body quickening the process. He was more sober than he'd been in months- since Ginny had left for the second time with nothing more than a "fuck you" to her mother. He'd gotten stinking drunk in his room, mad as all hell and at the lowest point of his life. He'd loved her. Harry had been stupid to think that his love was enough for her to stay in this suffocating country.

Which he probably wasn't even in any more.

He recognized nothing about the area. Harry was surprised about how green and huge the little meadow was, but he supposed that it seemed bigger than it actually was because he was so close to the ground. He burped up a flame, melting some of the snow.

Oh right, Harry thought sarcastically, he was a fucking dragon.

A branch broke somewhere in the depths of the woods, and Harry froze, listening for where the sound had came from. After a moment, he relaxed slightly. He needed to figure out where to go.

He turned around to see a massive fucking dragon staring at him. It was black, and missing a part of it's tail, instead having a bright piece of something. He was rigged like a horse and wearing a saddle, and Harry hysterically wondered if someone had tamed a dragon.

He was struck by a sudden, alcohol-soaked piece of memory, fuzzy around the edges.

" _That's the thing, Harry," Bill said, laughing, clutching his beer, "There are no pure black dragons. All of the other colors, streaked, sure, but no dragon is completely black."_

 _Harry rolled his eyes and downed his shot. "That's fucking stupid." He bitched, gaining a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach._

" _Well there was," Bill said, smiling at him. Harry flushed, both with the alcohol and Bill paying attention to him, "A Nightfury, and those were scary motherfuckers." Bill downed most of his beer, Harry downed his shot and the rest of the night was a blur._

Harry squeaked and flattened himself to the ground, trying to make himself appear smaller. He didn't want to be eaten alive by a dragon that was four times bigger than he was.

The Fury simply looked at him, before settling by the edge of the woods. Harry moved to leave. He stayed in the meadow after the fire shot at him. The large burn mark on the tree was about the size of Harry's body and he wasn't sure if he was fireproof.

"TOOTHLESS!" Somebody yelled from the depths of the forest, "Where'd you get off too, you stupid dragon?"

 _Ginny was fifteen, bright and laughing. Harry was smiling, amazed at the beautiful picture his girlfriend made._

" _Did you know," Ginny said, laughing, "That we used to be able to tame dragons? Bill told me- it was one of the Viking villages, I've forgotten the name, but the first person to ever tame one was fourteen. Fourteen!"_

" _Think the Horntail counts?" Harry asked, and that set them both off._

The two dragons watched each other, Harry with his hackles up and the Fury with boredom. Harry spit fire, the fireball flying about two feet before burning through the snow, the fire extinguishing itself with a sputter. The dragon rolled one of its enormous eyes, and snorted.

The boy that stumbled into the glade a few minutes later was fifteen at most, with a wooden foot that didn't hinder him any. Harry was reminded of Neville, suddenly, as the boy stopped and stared at the two.

The dragon- Toothless, was it- playfully flicked it's tail against the boy's shoulder. The boy stumbled, and his wide brown eyes were trained on Harry.

"Oh, by Thor," The boy breathed, "A baby Night Fury."

Harry knew this was going to get worse. Then, realizing that was a dare to the universe, he carefully knocked his tail against the tree behind him.

Toothless gave the boy a weird look, headbutting him and nearly knocking him to the ground.

"So not a Fury?" the boy asked, regaining his balance quickly. "I've never seen a black dragon built like this one before- AH!"

The fire Harry had spat missed the boy by inches, again splashing out uselessly against the snow. Toothless stood, looking more put upon than he really had a right too, and sauntered over to Harry, who'd frozen. He started by shoving Harry over to the boy, despite Harry trying to escape into the woods. The boy picked Harry up as soon as he got into reach, and got onto Toothless.

Harry was most definitely fucked up the ass.


	3. Chapter 3

It'd been six months.

He'd spent most of those months sulking, hiding in the woods like he was seventeen again, on the run and fearing for his life. Only this time, it was less righteous and more emo. Harry at fourteen would be horrified at himself. Harry at nineteen didn't really care about how hermit-like he'd become.

The woods were away from the other dragons, who tended to den together in the hottest part of the day and had a habit of corralling Harry into denning with them. Toothless was usually the culprit, forcibly dragging him from the woods and shoving him in the center with the rest of the babies.

Harry couldn't deal with so many bodies so close together.

The fucking shithead could suck his fucking ass for sending his to this goddamn cuddle town, he thought he'd escaped that when he left Hogwarts.

Part of the reason why he'd made his home in the woods was to get away from Toothless, who'd taken to harassing him whenever Harry braved the main area, insisting on teaching Harry on how to spit his fire properly.

Dragons live for hundreds, sometimes thousands of years. Harry, at nineteen, was practically a _baby_ and as such wasn't expected to be able to control the fire he constantly spat out to keep it from overwhelming him. He'd once set the Main Hall on fire, an achievement that no other dragon had achieved before. Now, it was a biweekly event, and Harry was quite certain that most of the bets were on him setting it on fire again- something that would never happen as he was never ever going back there. He wasn't about to put people at risk.

The memory struck him with the force of a nuclear bomb.

 _Ron was silent and grim, his wand in never ending motion. Hermione was beside him and Harry on his other side, dealing out death with an easy flick of a wand. Ron was the tank, Hermione dealt with the ones that escaped Ron's heavy handed spells._

 _Harry shielded them both._

 _One crack in his defenses would mean the end of them all._

 _One spell skimmed along the floor, underneath the edges of his Protego, heading straight for Ron, who didn't know, who couldn't protect himself…_

 _Harry spotted it seconds too late, but was quickly distracted by a familiar green light heading for Hermione, levitating a rock in front of the spell and ducking when it exploded. He didn't warn Ron._

 _Ron, who'd found out for himself what that spell that crept along the floor did._

Harry stumbled backwards, knocking himself into a tree, eyes opened as wide as possible.

He needed a fucking drink.

Harry dragged in a long breath, and spat out a huge fireball into the snow. Harry wasn't able to turn to his main methods of finding relief- alcohol, death defying stunts, illegal dueling.

He'd give Draco's left nut for a bottle of vodka.

This memory was as gin-soaked as the rest.

 _Draco Malfoy met Harry in the Three Broomsticks, well put together as ever. Both of them ordered firewhiskey._

" _What's your excuse?" Draco asked curiously. He was nursing his whiskey was Harry was steadily chugging his. The faster he got to incoherency the better. "Astoria thinks I'm with Theo."_

 _Harry set down his empty glass. "Today's the anniversary."_

" _Of what," Draco sneered, "How long it's been since Voldemort knocked us all on our asses again?" He snorted and took a decent sized swallow._

 _Harry smiled, sly._

 _Draco nearly spat out his drink. "You...sure. You're fucking buying."_

 _Harry snickered._

He sighed and started looking for dinner. A squirrel darted by and Harry pursued it.

It'd been two years since Hiccup and Toothless brought Harry to the village.

* * *

Three weeks later, a stranger came to the village.

He was tall. Blonde with braids cleverly twisted in his hair, beads swinging with every step that he took. He looked like the cover of one of Lavender's romance books that she brought out to the common room to read, all of them giggling at the prose.

In fact, Harry'd be willing to write some prose of his own, you know, if he was human.

This was before Harry was close to enough to smell how the man reeked of the same kind of power that Loki did. That completely killed his theoretical erection.

 _Fuck._


	4. Chapter 4

**chapter four**

 _The theoretical Thor_

 _Hey! Grey Foxes here. Sorry about the wait- family problems and moving out and school and other fun things all contributed to the late chapter. I'm here to answer a question in the review-_

 _Harry believes he's been in the village for six months. The reality is, he's been in the village for two years. Why the difference? What happened to Ron? What's going on with the absent Ginny? (answer: stealing). What happened in the changed events of the war that traumatized Harry so? Is Loki going to show up for his denied one night stand?_

 _Answer: There's a Thor in the village and he may have the answers to at least three of the questions._

Harry spent the night at Hiccups.

This was far from the usual thing- Harry was the most antisocial dragon in the entire village- but Hiccup's house was the closest to where the mysterious man was staying. Harry hated to do this to Hiccup, having some vague attachment to the man that had found him in the cold woods, so he waited until nightfall.

The man was already outside, smoking a pipe. He was taller than what Harry had guessed, and broader as well, nearly dwarfing the door. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Harry, smoke from the pipe making him seem otherworldly.

The man gestured to the woods, and Harry followed him to them.

"I am Thor," Thor said once they'd reached the privacy of the woods.

Harry just stares at him. He's a fucking dragon, what does Thor expect him to do?

Thor sighs, and suddenly " _I am Thor._ "

It's parseltongue. It's something Harry hasn't heard since he wasn't seventeen and translating for the DA, the only person that could understand what spells the Death Eater's were using so they could counteract them.

" _Fuck off._ " Harry hisses back, abruptly uninterested. The sound of it brought back memories that he's been repressing for a good portion of the last few years. It was one of the few things Harry was good at. Repressing. It was how he avoided blowing his brains out on the newly-darkened red of the Ministry steps, when spells had failed to get the blood out.

The Wizarding World had decided it'd be easier to make it into a memorial.

It was why he didn't spend much time there anymore.

" _I can help you_ ," Thor insisted, drawing back some of Harry's attention, " _for a price._ "

There was always a price. It was the way of Magic.

He had to stop hiding, for one thing. " _Fine._ "

Thor watched him warily for several long moments. " _Do you know how long it's been?_ " He asked Harry, leaning against a tree. " _Two winters. You've not realized it, have you? If you choose to stay like this, you will live for a very, very long time. Perhaps, longer than me. But you wish to earn your place in Valhalla twice over, do you not?_ " He crouched down, closer to Harry, " _Do you still wish to go home?_ "

" _Who wants to live forever?_ " He smiled a lizard's smile.

It wasn't the answer that Thor was looking for, but it seemed to satisfy him well enough, because Harry was human again.

"Only for tonight." Thor said.

Harry shrugged. The movement felt odd, improperly used. "Fun first."

Thor laughed.

Thor was tugging on his breeches when Harry decided to pay attention to man again.

"So what do you need me to do so I can go home?" Harry asked, flopping onto his back. He felt itchy. He supposed it was the scales starting to grow back in.

"A sword," Thor said thoughtfully, knotting the breeches, "Stolen from the man with the false foot."

There are fifteen men and women in the village with lost limbs.

"I'll be in the village for a week before I'm forced to move on," Thor adds, once Harry's on the ground, snarling in pain. "Good luck."

Harry fucking hates him.

He snarls, draconic, and lunges at Thor as he shrinks, clamping onto his booted foot. Thor laughs and kicks him off, sending Harry into the snow. When he gets up, Thor is gone and Harry is steaming off the snow.

He watches the villagers with prosthetics for a while, looking for any obvious hint that they would be the one that Thor would be interested in.

Unfortunately, they were Vikings. They could all kick Harry's ass without breaking a sweat so Harry had to get a little more sneaky.

He went to Toothless.


End file.
